


Little Miss Curious

by Enigel



Category: Little Miss Sunshine
Genre: Gen, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-25
Updated: 2008-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-02 06:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigel/pseuds/Enigel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Mo in the Yuletide 2008 Challenge.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Little Miss Curious

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mo in the Yuletide 2008 Challenge.

"Mr Bingle, sir?"

Little Olive's face was scrunched up in confusion.

"Yes, Olive?"

"What does 'faggot' mean?"

A horrified silence fell over the classroom. A few mouths opened and were forgotten like that.

Mr Bingle, their young and handsome teacher, went red and huffed indignantly before he could decide on an adequate response.

"It's a hateful - nasty word used by homophobes, Olive."

Olive stopped to digest that, but didn't sit down yet.

"Mr Bingle?"

"Yes, Olive?"

"What is a hopho... hophobe?"

"A _homophobe_, Olive," Mr Bingle said with all the dignity he could muster, "is a person who has an irrational dislike of homosexuals. A homosexual," Mr Bingle said hurriedly in anticipation of Olive's next question, "is a man who likes men, and there's nothing wrong with that!"

Olive's round features scrunched up again in what looked like deep thought.

"Mr Bingle?"

Mr Bingle took a deep breath. What kind of family did this girl have?

"Yes. Olive."

"Does this mean Uncle Frank hates himself?"

"Um. What?"

Mr Bingle was not entirely used to conversations with six year olds slipping away from him all of a sudden.

"He said he couldn't find a job because he was a fucking faggot," Olive clarified serenely.

"It's, um." Mr Bingle didn't like to ponder what shade of red his cheeks might be currently displaying. "It's complicated. Olive, I don't want you to use these words in public, okay? Your uncle shouldn't have said them in front of you."

"He didn't," Olive interrupted. "I was listening at the door."

"Well then, I don't want you to listen at the doors anymore, Olive, it's an ugly habit, and you might hear things you won't like at all."

The last part was mostly directed at himself, and James Bingle had the feeling that the little imp looking at him thoughtfully understood something of that.

"I'd like to meet with your uncle, Olive, I want to make sure you're receiving the kind of education proper for a young girl like you."

"I'll tell him," said Olive. "I'm not sure you're his type, but it will do him good to get out of the house. That's what mom says," she added.

Mr Bingle didn't think his dignity could ever recover from this, and the dozens of little curious eyes following him promised months of embarrassment, but there was, at least, the possibility that he might be getting a boyfriend out of this mess.


End file.
